Fullmetal Generation
by Little Yellow Bird
Summary: <html><head></head>"It was a wild dream Morgan Elric had- becoming a State Alchemist. It wasn't a title for the weak or the inexperienced, and sadly enough, that was exactly what she was. There was only so much a book could teach, so she found herself on a one-way train from Rush Valley to Central City."</html>
1. Dark Dreams on Wet Streets

_**Full summary: Morgan Elric, inexperienced yet determined, has set out to formally learn alchemy- the amazing power of manipulating the elements- that she's only ever read about in books. Having grown up in the small country town of Resembool in a house run by automail otakus, Morgan is ready to experience the world her father has been protecting her from for thirteen years. Though the closer she comes to her military-bound dream, the more she uncovers about her father's forcefully forgetten past that is now coming back to haunt them all.**_

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><p>Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. That is alchemy's first law of equivalent exchange. But the world isn't perfect, and the law is incomplete. You can give everything you've got and get nothing in return, but nothing has a way of turning itself into something- even if you don't always realize it. Things are not always what they seem, and the unexpected can sometimes take the place of the most expected things in life.<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>  
><strong>Dark Dreams on Wet Streets<strong>

Of all days- out of all three hundred and sixty five freaking days of the year- why- **why**, did it have to be raining today? It was wet, and damp, and moist, and cold, and any other synonym for an all around horrible day that could be found in the English language. Again, why was it raining? Was it so much to ask from the universe, or God, (whoever, or whatever invisible force that governed the ways of nature) for just one day that turned out **okay**?

Central City's sky always had a way of dampening an already dreary mood, although Morgan's long absence from the place caused her to forget that fact; and more importantly, an umbrella at the very least. It wasn't often that she visited though; the city way life wasn't the ideal way of living according to her mom and dad. (That in which being the most likely reason the family of four lived out in the countryside.)

Though the thought of home and living was the least of the girl's worries at the time, and Morgan quickly realized how soaked she had become.

_Shoot, and that was a new outfit too._

It was only for the best that she stopped underneath a small shop overhang for shelter. She wrung her long blonde hair dry, creating a mass of water that leaked from the golden strands. With two hands she tied the mess back, only leaving two fringe-like pieces and bangs swooping to her right side still dangling in her face. The rest of her, on the other hand, was dripping omnipresent drops of water to add to the tiny ocean starting to form at her feet.

She shivered in her damp position; bones rattled underneath soggy skin as her teeth clacked together. Any hope in this involuntary motion to gain warmth was a loss, for she caught herself in the midst of the act and stopped abruptly.

"State alchemists need to be tough," she whispered under her cool breath as encouragement. All with self pity Morgan laughed and sighed. "Well it would help if I wasn't lost." She murmered as she ventured back into the rain.

Five entire years marked her last visit to the country capitol; no wonder she couldn't find her way to Central Military Command- or even her aunt and uncle's house for that matter.

The girl of thirteen hopped in and around puddles, dodging the ones she could. Morgan looked around vigorously, in hopes of spotting someone or something familiar that could point her in the right direction.

She settled on heading in the direction of a tall shadowy building that stood in the distance. It reached out toward the gray sky, leaving behind an even grayer trail of concrete standing out against its surroundings. She figured that was Central Headquarters; there wasn't much of a possibility that it was anything else.

Sure enough, as she traveled closer, the building revealed itself to be indeed what Morgan thought it was. A colossal Amestrian flag hung like a welcome banner across the front of the building. The patriotic two headed dragon (the same in which that was marked on the silver pocket watch carried by state alchemists that Morgan so desperately craved to possess) reminded the blond of everything at stake in her visit to the capitol.

Morgan approached the front gates and stopped there, noticing the features on the metal. Ornate iron bars twisted together and back outward forming a flawless pattern of swirls and other elegant designs that united to develop the two grand entrance gates; the ones that stood before her.

"That's so like him," Morgan rolled her eyes partial to a grin.

Uncle Roy was always spending lots of money on design enhancement, just to make the place look fancy. It was one way the military used to show off and say, '_Hey, we're important looking. You should come join us.'_

But honestly, with all due respect, these trys were only an evident way of showing how incredibly desperate the Amestris military really was to have people jump on the band wagon.

Morgan saw no reason why they were in need of recruiting troops and state alchemists; the country was involved in no wars, and had been experiencing a time of peace and prosperity ever since President Mustang came to power. The military had all the officers and workers it needed.

Though Morgan was proud of the way her uncle was leading the country nonetheless. So proud in fact, she wanted nothing more than to join them.

The man's design quality, on the other hand, wasn't something in particular she would brag about. Too much money spent on something with little affect.

Did anyone even notice her uncle's unique way of recruiting people? Or did she just have keen eye for spotting details and tid-bits of information that didn't really matter? She inherited that from her mom, that was for sure. And her shrewdly put together logics and theories was something she inherited from her dad.

Suddenly realizing how terribly far her mind had drifted, Morgan put the random thoughts to rest and pushed open one of the fancy gates. Stepping inside, she gently closed it behind her and walked forward towards the building entrance.

The yard was all too familiar- she had spent some of the best years of her life running up and down those lawns and frolicking through the neatly cut grass. Her and her sister, Jennifer, would spend whole summers in Central and stay with their close family friends, the Mustangs.

Morgan, Jennifer, and the Mustangs' son, Lucas, would come to work with Roy and spend the whole day playing in the outside courtyards and running up and down the hallways. They had almost driven the dark-haired man crazy multiple times with their shinanigans, but at least punishment for the over excited trio would be far less severe coming from the commander in chief rather than his tyrant wife, Riza.

A content spark lit in Morgan's eyes as the memory came to mind as she crossed her fingers and made a silent wish; there were no stars in the sky, but she figured a storm cloud would work just the same.

At last, she approched the lobby door. She opened it weakly and stepped inside a new hope. She wiped her feet on the mat and shook off the water droplets that had crystallized on her jacket, mind swirling in every direction as she thought about every possible outcome.

She wasn't paying much attention to the military officers that buzzed in and out through the hallways and into various doors. They raced around like bumble bees carrying paperwork and wearing blue uniforms.

If one were to imagine the place without the busy people, the lobby almost looked like a public doctors' office. Now that, if nothing else, was a scary thought on its own, and it only made her more nervous to speak up and actually achieve what she had come to Central for in the first place.

Approaching the front desk cautiously, she leaned on the counter and mumbled a faint, "Exuse me,"

The dark brown haired secretary woman looked up, with blueish-green colored eyes flashing a friendly hello. A name tag pinned to her blue coat read, 'Ellen.'

"How can I help you?" She smiled, closing the novel she had perched open behind the counter. Judging by the cover title, it was a murder mystery.

"I'm looking to see President Mustang, if that's possible." Morgan replied with a hesitant tone in her voice. She tried to relax, and resist the urge to wring her hands raw.

"He's in a meeting at the moment, and won't be out until five. Can I take a message or schedule you an appointment?"

Morgan frowned and looked downward. There was a silence lasting a few seconds, but God, it felt like hours. As she dug her fingernails into her palms, she bolted up and blurted,"Can I wait for him? I promise I don't need an appointment!"

Biting her lip, the blond turned her attention to 'Ellen's' slightly puzzled expression.

"Don't need an appointment, eh?" She asked sarcastically, as a look stretched across her face that read, 'Who does this kid think she is?'

Morgan looked down again, this time catching a drop of water on her nose that had dripped from her bangs.

"Right." She murmured, lacking the social skills to know what to do next. She promptly turned and walked towards the door, with no protest from the secretary.

Morgan dested the idea of having to walk outside and into the rain again, but she detested the idea of staying inside and feeling the dirty stares that the secretary was sending her way even more. Morgan would take a little water over a nasty look in the eye any day.

It was a lot of water actually, but either way.

Closing the vast door behind her as she walked made her departure, Morgan pressed her back against it and sighed.

Man, did she ever hate dealing with people. She was much more suited towards animals- cats in particular. (Which was strange, because her mother was a definite dog person, and her father hated most all animals. Not to mention the fact that her sister was allergic to most anything with four legs and fur. The only pet the family had ever had was a goldfish named Rodney who died of starvation shortly after he was won in a game at a carnival. Yeah, the Elrics weren't the most responsible family on the block when it came to pet care.)

Now it was time for plan B: Find the Mustang estate. It was close by, she knew that much. And it was big- **very big**. That shouldn't be too hard right? It was surprisingly easy to find Central Command, so a large fancy estate shouldn't exceed that difficulty. But even so, Morgan had no idea how much longer she would last in that awful rainstorm without catching a cold- or even pneumonia for that matter.

Leaving the military- and Ellen- behind, Morgan turned down the next street and gained a side view of the immense building she had just taken leave of. She could have sworn the place was big enough to fit her whole house, plus her sister's shop inside of it more than several times, and she would kill to be a part of the team that operated inside of that amazing building.

It was a wild dream Morgan Elric had- becoming a State Alchemist. It wasn't a title for the weak or the inexperienced, and sadly enough, that was exactly what she was. There's only so much a book can teach, so she found herself on a one-way train from Rush Valley to Central City.

And then, suddenly, Morgan stopped dead in her tracks. Not too far behind the Military Headquarters was a monstrous abomination of a house- not even a house- a mansion- no, a **castle**. She remembered it being a large place, but not nearly as large as the building that was staring her in the face. Maybe they had remodeled? Or maybe it was the new found lemon colored paint (the color in which, being so vivid against the grey sky it made the poor girl cringe) that now stretched across the walls.

Wastefully detailed gate? Check. Belittling secretary? Check. Horribly chosen neon paint? For the love of all things Holy, check times five thousand. What in the world caused the man to paint his abode such a rancid color?

Although, it may have all been a crazy escalated vision caused by the pneumonia that was probably soon invading her system. Maybe- more like hopefully- this was ALL a dream, because Morgan was now begining to realize what a lost cause this adventure was turning out to be.

Though whatever doubt she saw within herself was irrelevent, because entering the ugly structure meant shelter, food, a warm bed, company, and most importantly: the possibility of a new opportunity.

Walking up to the guard station placed at the access point on the front gate, Morgan peeked inside the little window. There were two men stationed there, both having fallen fast asleep on each others' shoulders, snoring so loudly that it almost surpassed the sound of the heavily falling rain.

Were these really the soldiers appointed to guard the President's private home? Maybe the military needed people to join them after all. It would seem they need people who didn't fall asleep at four-thirty in the evening while on post.

Even so, the sleeping guards meant less of an identification hassle for Morgan, and her only problem would be getting the gate open.

Surprisingly, the gate was relatively low to the ground and fairly easy to climb over. She just hoped no one had spotted her and assumed she was on an assassination mission.

As the blond picked up her pace to a small sprint, her boots filled with water, causing her feet to squirm and slide on the inside. It made a sound similar to the one made when one mixes a bowl of saucy pasta.

After running up the vast driveway, she finally reached the stone column porch and, with slight hesitation, she rang the front doorbell. She could hear the chiming from the inside, followed by footsteps, and then the unbolting of a lock.

She took a deep breath, as a woman- assumingly a maid- opened the door and gave Morgan an examining stare.

"How may I help you, young lady?" She eventually said, locking her brown-eyed glance on Morgan's porcelin face.

"I'm a relative of the Mustangs." Morgan replied, having thought of exactly what to say that time; not wanting this to end in sarcasm and sleeping on the wet streets.

"Name, please." The woman demanded.

"Morgan Elric."

An eleven letter name that, right now, meant life or death to the girl, however exaggerated that may seem.

The door was closed, rather rudely, and there were no sounds coming from inside for a few moments. It seemed like she was standing there for an eternity, just waiting for something to happen.

"Stay calm." She told herself over and over, and she began counting backwards in her head from one hundred to ease her nerves.

Soon she reached zero.

So she counted again, and before she new it, several minutes passed. In that fact, Morgan decided she wasn't waiting any longer. And that was that.

Even if they had told her to get lost, it was better than not knowing anything at all. Turning to leave, a million thoughts ran through her mind, but most of all, that she didn't want to accpet that in an instance any hope she had left had been shattered, and her dream of becoming an accomplished alchemist was lost.

_What am I supposed to do now?_

Trying to hold back the tears that were now forming in her eyes, she swallowed hard to control the choked-up sort of feeling that entered her throat. An uncomfortable sensation overcame her, and her emotions finally got the best of her.

It didn't matter if she cried, she decided. The rain would wash away the tears of disappointment anyway. Besides, no one was watching, or caring.

Letting the tears flow freely as they wished, she slowly started towards the driveway path. About halfway down the way she looked back, only glancing over her shoulder at the still dark, still empty porch.

She walked a few more steps with a melancholy cloud hanging over her head. She looked back once more, unable to lay the disappointment to rest.

And suddenly, without another doubting thought, the front door opened again and light from the pure insides poured into the open to meet the darkness that was now timidly fading away. The illumination revealed a thin figure that appeared to be only a shadow against the light.

The shadow stepped forward, and ventured into the gray outside, calling Morgan's name in a familiar voice. The sure realization of this suddenly changed the thirteen year old girl's entire outlook, for her tears of anguish instantly became tears of joy.

She turned steadily and her feet started moving forward, trying to move as fast as her mind wanted them to, towards the figure that was on its way to her. The pounding of her heart rang in her ears, and didn't stop until Morgan met the shadow at last and stopped abruptly at the sight of the comfirmation of who it was.

That young boy, dressed in baggy jeans and a light grey t-shirt with different colored paint droplets smudged on it, looked just the same as he had all those years ago. The black haired boy gave Morgan a familiar look in the eye with his warm brown eyes and stepped forward, flinging his arms out and around her thin framed body.

She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her head in his shoulder, trying to conceal her tears. She immediately felt a heart-warming rush come over her. He pulled Morgan closer, growing wetter than he had already been from traveling to embrace her.

What an idiot she must have looked like just then. Walking away like that- crying- getting Lucas all wet. Impatience: one point, Morgan: zero. Another one of the terrible qualities she inharited from her father.

"Lucas, what in the hell took you so long to get here!" she questioned, striking Lucas's chest with the side of her fist.

He grinned sheepishly, "It's a big house," he said, raising his eyebrows and scratching at the back of his neck nervously.

Morgan laughed and rolled her eyes in joy and disbelief of the moment as the two teens sprinted frantically back to the dry safety of the porch. Stepping inside the Mustang Manor, Morgan and Lucas were greeted with dirty looks from the maid that had so rudely shut the door- literally- in Morgan's face. It took a lot for the pair not to burst out laughing from excitement.

"Mom, you'll never guess which one of our favorite loners showed up on our doorstep just now!" The boy called into a room off to the side of the enterance hall, and then chuckled slightly with a look of contentment flashing in his eyes.

"You're here alone? Pretty unusual- what brings you to Central?" Lucas asked, turning his attention back to Morgan.

"Dreams, business- it's all the same." She replied. Her damp clothes and hair dripped steadily on the marble floor, much to the displeasure of the housekeeping staff.

"You're still a dreamer," rang a voice from the arched doorway. There stood a blonde woman with equally warm brown eyes as Lucas, and she smiled halfly yet sincerely, and spoke gently in her calming voice, "Even though you're all grown up now."

Morgan beamed. "I'll always have a dream to follow, Aunt Riza. It's in my blood."

Riza motioned for Morgan to follow her, signaling that Morgan's wet clothes should be changed from before she turned their home into a flood hazard zone.

All the way as she followed behind the mother and son, Morgan had whispered and mumbled apologies meaning to be heard by the elders, but only earning a, 'calm down, it's no big deal' sort of look from Lucas.

Glaring back at him, she spoke up, now directing her attention to her Aunt. "Aunt Riza, would it be okay if I spent a few days here? I know it's short notice and I don't mean to intrude but-"

"If you seem so doubtful about us letting you stay here then you can sleep outside with Black Hayate." Riza interrupted knowingly and smiled as she turned away from looking at her family-friended niece. Lucas laughed slightly as Morgan turned scarlet, trying to imply into her head not to be so damn grateful all the time. Only now did she realize that saying thank you too much was just plain annoying.

"We have plenty of guest rooms, so I'm sure you'll be quite comfortable here for a few days, or however long you'd like to stay. Unless you **want** to sleep with the dog."

Lucas patted Morgan on the back. "This will be just like the summers we spent together as kids," he recollected in a tone that was practically inviting. "Except it'll just be you and me and no Jennifer."

Morgan sighed contently and brushed the hair back out of her eyes. "Thanks." She settled on saying; there was no use in fighting a friendly offer.

As the trio separated, she made her way to the master bedroom, following Riza into a closet accustomed with dressers, hangers, and an old-fashioned wardrobe. The closet was almost as large as the grand enterance hall, and contained an item of clothing of every color imaginable, like a fictional rainbow that displayed much more than just the regular seven colors a normal rainbow would contain. They came in all shapes and sizes, patterns and designs, leaving Morgan's face outstretched in surprise and awe at the display before her.

Acting on the reaction from her facial expression, Riza placed a hand lightly on Morgan's shoulder. "This is one of the perks of being the country's first lady. Go ahead and pick out anything you'd like. Take some of it home to Winry, too. I never wear anything except for what's in that old wardrobe anyway."

With a hiddenly amused face, Riza strolled out of the immense closet and shut the door behind her. Now Morgan wondered what Lucas's closet must have looked like. And even Roy's, for that matter.

Marveling over the array of opportunities before her, Morgan suddenly no longer regretted sneaking away from her sister's shop in Rush Valley to come to Central. She somehow had a feeling her parents would find out, and she'd be as good as dead when they did, but at the moment, it was more than worth getting in trouble for. For the first time in a long time, Morgan felt like she had truly belonged somewhere. The second thing Morgan was most sure about in the world, (next to wanting to be an accomplished state alchemist) was that she fit in much better with the Mustang family than she did her own. Jennifer was a needy, spoiled brat, who got anything she wanted served to her on a silver platter. Her mom was too obsessive and engrossed in her work life all the time, which was probably why she seemed to love Jennifer more, on account of their shared passion in life. Although as bad as they were, no one could beat the tension the girl shared with her father. It was always a matter of _"don't do this, don't do that- that's too dangerous, why can't you be more like your sister?"_

Yes, it was with the Mustang family that she longed to be a part of- with Uncle Roy and his fun-loving yet strong character, and Aunt Riza who was so cool and loving. And of course Lucas- her best friend since the day she was born.

After trying on about twenty-five different outfits, Morgan finally settled on a casual, white, knee-length dress. Leaving her wet rags of an old outfit in a hamper outside the closet door. Morgan wandered out of the room and leisurely to the staircase. She stopped at the top and paused.

_Make yourself at home._ She told herself. _Might as well do some exploring._

Although she remained paused there, as she spotted the front door swing open, and a dark figure enter from the rain outside. A butler raced over to him, and took the figure's coat, revealing it to be President Roy Mustang himself. Grumbling about the weather outside and sending the butler away, Roy looked up to realize Morgan standing at the top of the grand staircase

"No way!" He exclaimed excitedly, opening his arms for a hug. Morgan ran over to her un-related uncle and giggled as he caught her in his arms. "What're you doing here, kiddo?" He grinned and patted her on the head; the rain pounding on the windows seemed to fade away at the sight of the light in his eyes.

Though this couldn't interfere with the task on hand. Taking a step back, Morgan wiped the girlish smile off her face and spoke clearly. Summoning all her courage, she finally spat out, "President Mustang, I have an important favor to ask of you. In my dreams of becoming a State Alchemist, I ask that you please arrange for me to formally be taught alchemy."

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><p><em><strong>I cannot even begin to explain the hell I've been through in writing this story... This is probably about the five thousandth time I've re-written it, so I hope it's good enough this time around. As always, comments are encouraged. Constructive critisism is my best friend.<strong>_

**Oh, and pay no mind to typos... I'm too lazy. T.T**


	2. Always Sunny in Rush Valley

**Chapter Two  
>Always Sunny in Rush Valley<strong>

_Discount this, and discount that. Cheap, cheap, cheap. If it's such low quality, then why even buy it at all? I'm an engineer, not a miracle worker._

Jennifer Trisha Elric had many things to complain about- the biggest thing in which being the needy and spoiled automail patients she received on a daily basis. With all decency, couldn't anyone in the entire city of Rush Valley cut the poor girl some slack for her amateur craftings? She was only eleven years old, afterall, and the only reason she was allowed to stay and work so far from home at such a young age was because of her sister. With Morgan accompanying her, she remained able to practice her automail constructing in none other than the automail capitol of the world.

The Rockbell Automail shop was all too quiet that day. The only noise reaching Jennifer's ears was the constant ring of the never-answered complaining phone calls. (And the girl's excessive groaning, too, of course.)

She was almost tempted to answer the everlasting calls and give the all too high expecting customer a piece of her mind, but **no**- that would be rude of her. That was the thing about Jennifer Trisha Elric- the only thing more golden than her hair were her morals. _Always tell the truth, always be lady-like and considerate, blah_ _blah **blah.**_ Sometimes she grew so tired of being the goodie-two-shoes of the family that it made her sick.

It was the least she could do though; her family didn't need **two** trouble making kids- especially since her sister was never up to any good.

Although it was almost a relief she had abandoned her for Central, taking her slobby habits with her. At least that made tending to the shop more bearable.

Sinking down into the armchair that was comfortably placed in the secluded back room of the shop, Jennifer reached over and turned up the volume on the radio- even at full blast it wasn't enough to drown out the sound of the telephone.

It was always the same thing: _Loose bolt. Unsteady frame. Where's Winry?_ She knew what to expect; there was no need to answer the darn thing. It was probably the same person calling over and over anyway. Besides, the customers that came were few in number while Jennifer had the run of the place.

Letting out a long sigh, Jennifer slumped over to the phone and zapped a dreading stare in its direction. It was a one-on-one battle between the two of them, and whether in real contest or not, the telephone was certainly winning. The girl shook her head with half an eye roll, and she decided to just get it over with. _One painful conversation and it's all over. The ringing will stop.  
><em>  
>"Rockbell Automail- this is Jennifer speaking. How may I help you?" She chimed in a sudden change of tone. Her mother had drilled it into her head so many times to answer the phone exactly in that way. It was nonetheless fake until she realized who had been calling so many times and waiting on the other side of the phone line.<p>

"What took you so long to pick up?" A familiar voice scolded. "Has that place gone so downhill since I left that you can't even pick of the telephone in a decent amount of time?"

Oh great- just what she needed; more criticisms and judgments. Rolling her eyes, Jennifer spat out a snappy reply: "Don't get on my nerves, Morgan. Keep in mind who's keeping Mom and Dad from finding out you snuck away from the shop to visit Central." Her lips upturned in a smirk. She could benefit from this. "Be nice to me- we don't want your secret leaking out, now do we?"

It was only at the presence of her sister that Jennifer momentarily disregarded her 'golden morals'. Forget being lady like and considerate- this was just down right blackmail.

"Whatever," The elder sniped. "Putting up with you will be worth it when I'm an accomplished alchemist."

"And then I'll laugh at everytime I ever asked you for help configuring automail. One day, I'll be a pro too."

A fit of ironic laughter overcame Morgan at those words. "Don't get your hopes up, shorty." she teased.

An awkward silence then wrapped itself around the conversation as the now boiling eleven year old tried desperately to swallow the annoyance that was now rising in her throat. Choking it down, she promptly addressed the situation with a deep breath and a shrill, "Good luck in Central."

Without any word of goodbye, Jennifer placed the phone back on the receiver and grunted in frustration. She raised the grunt to a shout and formed a yell that echoed through the empty abode. "I'm tangled in the leash that **I'm**holding!"

It just wasn't fair- not at all. Everyone had such nerve pushing her around, criticizing her, and most of all- calling her **short.**It made her so mad sometimes that she could just rage a mass killing spree with an army of ratchet wrenches at her side. (Of course, the most damage she could probably do would be a black bruise on the head. That is, if she even had the audacity to do such a thing in the first place.) Jennifer's golden morals came into place only because of her complete self lack of nerve, and as far as anyone else could see, she was sweet, shy little Jennifer that just wasn't very good at what she loved to do.

And that definitely wasn't who she wanted to be.

With yet another sigh, she sunk back down into the cozy armchair. Well, at least the ringing had stopped. Thank God for that. Although it hadn't silenced the incessant ringing of thoughts in her head, but at least now she could relax, and listen to the kind of music and talk shows on the radio that she hated so much. After all that had happened, the boring political interviews playing were now somehow manageable. Maybe she could learn to like them; afterall, they made her feel much more grown up.

Speaking of which- God, what she wouldn't give for a cup of coffee right about now. A big cup with lots and lots of milk and even more sugar- whipped cream on the top with a caramel and chocolate drizzle.

**Perfect**- it was just about lunchtime, too. There was nothing in the world standing in her way of taking a lunch break and running down to the little cafe' on the corner.

Jennifer decided that she darn well deserved some coffee and some lunch. Composing herself, she pushed herself upward and out of the clutches of that ever-so-comfortable padded black leather chair. The thing seemingly called out to her as she walked away saying, _Come back and relax_. How many times had she just sat in the comfort of the cool material and momentarily released the stress that hooked onto her daily life? It was hard being so young and practically running your own business because your legendary engineer mother (the mother who's shoes in which you had no hope of filling...) was off playing housewife.

But, that cup of coffee beeseched to be consumed, and who was Jennifer to not fulfill that?

As Jennifer grabbed her wallet off the front counter, a familiarly un-welcoming sound danced across her ears.

**Bbbrrrriiinnngggg... Bbbrrrriiinnngggg...  
><strong>  
>The scoffed reply was a "Forget it!" And a slam of the front shop door. She didn't even bother to lock it.<p>

Rush Valley was at its usual that day; hot, dry, and buzzing with people. Was it unusual to be craving coffee on a mid-summer afternoon?

Yep. Especially because it felt to be about a million degrees outside. Jennifer couldn't help herself though- the stuff was just too... amazing. The bitter-sweet thrill that mixed with the warm sensation of the blend was a picture-perfect harmony of flavors that made Jennifer's mouth water. Reaching the cafe' was a relief, and she could almost taste the coffee and ham sandwich that she had come to order; that was more or less part of her daily routine.

Walking up to the cafe' door, she stopped dead and almost melted in the place she stood. Not only from the intense heat of the sun, but also because of the pure shock of the moment.

**Closed.** The place was **closed**. Darn it all if she were pathetic for wanting to cry right then and there.

When Jennifer reluctantly returned to her working place, the phone was still ringing. She was hungry, and now she was annoyed again. It was most likely Morgan for the ten thousandth time, and when she answered it she was relieved to hear that it was. (Rather than an angry customer. Thank goodness she wasn't getting many calls of that sort today.)

"Didn't I just talk to you- why are you calling again?"

"I wasn't finished talking when you rudely hung up on me." Morgan insulted knowingly. Jennifer sighed; this was getting old. The elder started again, "The only reason I even called you in the first place was to tell you that I achieved what I came to Central to do."

To say in the least, that probably meant Morgan wasn't coming back anytime soon.

"Nice to hear," the younger complimented sarcastically. "So when are you coming back? I can't lie to Mom and Dad forever, you know. You'll have to leave sometime."

"I know, I know- just let me see how things work out. Besides, now that I'm starting to become an alchemist, Dad can't stop me now."

Jennifer's sarcasm would soon run out if this continued, she thought. She was already far past having run out of patience.

"Good luck with that."

And at that, all the world's dreams were coming true except for Jennifer's own. Maybe that was the girl's eternal punishment for always getting everything else she wanted. It wasn't her fault really- it just seemed as if the saying 'ask and you shall receive' took a particular liking to her. At least Morgan was the kind of person that chased after what she wanted; Jennifer asked and pouted if 'no' was the answer. Although at least now she was starting to admit it to herself.

The phone call between the two sisters ended, and Jennifer finally realized her biggest flaw- passiveness. That was definitely something she could work on...

until the phone rang again.

It was an angry customer, no doubt- Morgan wouldn't have called a third time.

One last time she let her passiveness get the best of her, but this time it had been intentional.

That phone rang, and rang, and rang, and **rang**.

And Jennifer did nothing about it.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, so this is pretty much a filler chapter. Although I liked it enough to keep it in. :P <strong>


	3. You Never Know For Sure

**Chapter Three**

**You Never Know For Sure**

First impressions were always important, but Morgan never imagined herself returning to her own source of self-pity that had surfaced since she first arrived in Central.

There she stood; roughly six feet tall with eyes that implanted a strict set of values on her face. The woman was young- or at least that was how it had seemed. A dainty and almost sweet looking girl sat busily behind the front lobby desk; but in full view, well, that was a different story. Her true form greatly resembled a giant, bottom-heavy pear.

Ellen Parker was her name, and she loved to read mystery novels. Current occupation: military secretary and alchemy teacher extraordinaire.

It had all come as a surprise when Roy put together the arrangements for an alchemy teacher in less than a day's time; although, Morgan kept in mind, his quick and speedy reaction to 'I wanna learn alchemy' possessed some connection to the fact that he stood as President of the country.

But out of all the people in Amestris- however many thousand or million that may be- the one person meant to teach Morgan alchemy just had to be the bi-polar death glare secretary woman from Central Command. It was times like this that she wondered what the hell she ever did to karma and its little friends fate and destiny to deserve this. The three stuck together like those stereotypical high school mean-girl cliques. (Not that she would know anyway- having skipped three grades and then dropping out of school altogether because she found the public education process 'unreliable' and 'too easy'.

Full-on prodigy, maybe?)

Maybe she was just over-reacting about the situation on-hand. (She tended to do that a lot.) Maybe this Ellen woman wasn't such a downer on the youth's spirit, after all. Maybe the lady was just having a sucky day when the two had met, leaving them having started off on the wrong foot.

Maybe?- more like **hopefully**.

But all that aside, it was about time someone knocked some sense into her. Lucas was starting to notice the girl's anxiety; and he was reading her like an open book printed in bold. It was at breakfast when he had offered to accompany her to her first formal alchemy lesson, wanting to act as a guide to show her that the insecurity she trapped herself in wasn't at all healthy. (As far as self-esteem goes, anyway.)

"Come on, there's nothing to worry about. You'll be fine." He assured her, peering at her from across the dining table. A clean table cloth laid spread out in wide expanse, taking the center of the grand dining hall. The table could fit well over thirty people, (important people, so it would seem) but the most it had at the moment was two, and that was perfectly all right with the current occupants.

Setting down the glass of milk she was sipping from, Morgan bit down hard on her lower lip before resting her elbows on the table.  
>"What if she has some kind of crazy voodoo punishment methods for me when I screw up?"<p>

Pausing briefly Lucas rolled his eyes at the slightly younger girl. He could feel an expression plastering over his own face that read, '_This is going to be a long day...'_  
>"I <strong>highly <strong>doubt that." He retorted, as his eyes wandered over to the meal that was now being carried into the room by servers of the house.

Silver trays full of breakfast foods of every kind made their way to the table; the silver gleaming a shiny beam, while the food itself varied like a rainbow. To put it simply, it was a free all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet with legs, and Morgan very well had plans to take advantage of this array of food.

The three servers that had entered set the trays of food down gently in front of their consumers, heads bowing professionally in the process. Freshly baked muffins, bagels, toasted bread, pancakes and waffles steamed warmly around the faces of a wide-eyed Morgan and a mildly irritated Lucas. A tiny plate of organic jams, jellies, and preserves stood alongside the bread products, leaving a fruity smell lingering in the surrounding air; a different fragrance admitting from each colored, neatly opened jar.

"You never know for sure," Morgan said, tone drifting into another state of mind. She had occupied herself with smothering a toast slice in sweet peach jam. "You should have seen that look in her eye the other day. I felt like I wanted to drop dead- or at least just drop dead from sight."

"Don't you think you're over-reacting?" Lucas question as he pulled a muffin out of a neatly prepared assortment.

Morgan dropped the butter knife she had been using before. The metal tool clattered against the table and the noise echoed through the massive dining hall.

"Not at all!" She bolted upwards and out of her seat, prompting a flinch from the boy sitting across from her. "She looked like she was going to suck my soul out of my body! She's probably not an alchemy teacher at all- she just says that and then she eats the souls of her poor students who fall into her trap. I don't want to be the victim of that horrible demise!"

Lucas rolled his eyes (this was now becoming a familiar occurrence) and relaxed in his seat. "Quite an imagination you've got there. It's gotten stronger as you've gotten older..."

Wasn't that supposed to work in the opposite direction?

Morgan sunk back and continued her argument with an 'as a matter of fact' tone ringing in her voice.

"I am not imagining anything! I'm being serious right now." She took a bite of her toast.

"Would you just **shut up**?" He snapped, now overcoming the particular sense of crazy emotion Morgan had probably been feeling before. "I swear, you're giving me a damn headache."

This was definitely grounds for either an awkward silence, or a heated argument.

Shocked, Morgan rubbed the back of her neck anxiously and looked downward. Under her breath she mumbled faintly.  
>"Hey, when did you become such an as-"<p>

"This is you're dream- alchemy." Lucas interrupted. "You've been given a chance. Don't be such a child. You may never get another chance like this." He looked her straight in the eye, warm brown eyes meeting crystal blue. He continued; "As you said in your own words, 'you never know for sure.' Take that into consideration; lots of good things could come out of this- out of **you**."

The girl looked to the side and sighed contently. She paused a moment to soak in his words, and Lucas could see the enlightenment starting to rework her outlook.

"You've always had a way with words..." She complimented. "When I'm a world famous alchemist helping people all around the world, I'll put you on my list of inspirations."

A small smile was exchanged and in perfect timing the doorbell rang. The President must have been a busy guy- it was barely eight forty five in the morning and there were already people knocking on his front door. He had people to take care of that, of course, so the two stayed where they were.

"Wonder who that could be." Morgan wondered as she finished off her piece of toast.

"It's probably Ellen. She said she was coming around nine."

"W-what!" She stuttered, gasping for breath underneath the gulp of milk she was now in taking. "B-but it's only like, eight thirty!"

"Well, the early bird catches the worm, I guess. Now go out there and start learning, ya' worm." The dark haired boy gave a sarcastic laugh and pushed out on his chair, sliding his thinly framed body out of the seat and standing up. This left Morgan in a position to follow. She hesitated.

Lucas rolled his eyes yet again and crossed to the same side of the table as Morgan's seat, and with one hand he pulled her chair backwards. She flew back with it and quickly jumped onto her feet to prevent from falling. She let out an "ugh" and began following the boy who was now leading her through various hallways.

It was in her best interest to follow, to prevent any other mishaps that would be thrown at her by the elder boy, and, of course, to prevent not getting lost in the vast house she was now traveling through.

Hallway after hallway stretched onward into a long expanse that seemingly never ended. It was like a maze that had no end, and kept looping for corner after corner. Lucas was the humble knight in charge of leading people to wherever it was in the maze they wanted to go. Morgan could recall several stories her mother used to tell her when she was little about a maze or a humble knight.

It was things like this, wonderful stories in particular, that made Morgan so determined to become the person she dreamed of. A gap in her heart lead her to search for that fairy-tale ending that gave her a life that was not only happy, but successful.

The two teens reached the end of a hallway that brought them to the front entrance. Before them stood a coldly familiar woman waiting by the front door and tapping her foot angrily. Her dark brown hair was tied back into a neat bun, and her blue-green eyes traveled up and down Morgan in cold calculation. With a deep breath Ellen's expression suddenly melted and her face was left in the same way it had looked when Morgan first approached her; a sweet gentle woman here to help from behind the lobby desk. In a sudden broken silence she extended her arm.

This, to Morgan, was the ultimate test. A handshake was all it took and she would be one step closer to achieving her dreams. One bad over-reactive incident aside and a new beginning would start, right then and there.

Now, it was time- Morgan glanced over to Lucas, waiting for the glance of encouragement she knew she could rely on him for, and returned her sight to Ellen. With a half-hearted smile directed to the woman she offered her hand in return.

Just a simple handshake and a bond was formed. A bond that could very well map the road for the rest of Morgan's life.


	4. All in a Day's Work

_**AFTER LIKE A YEAR, CHAPTER 4 IS FINALLY HERE! My god, I am so sorry this took so long. I am horribly lazy and had writer's block like a witch. Anyway, read, review, and ENJOY!**_

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

**All in a Day's Work**

"The basics," Ellen explained as she still stood idly in the entry hall of the Mustang estate, hands outstretched with a leather-bound offering. "may be your greatest asset."

Morgan half-smiled and nodded a gesture of "thank you" as she awkwardly reached for the book; she paused to study her new possession titled: "A Beginner's Guide to Equivalent Exchange."

"We're going to take things one step at a time,"the elder woman said as she turned toward the door.

"Wait-" Morgan chimed, but not before Ellen had reached for the door handle. "Is that all?" She questioned, a surprised tone ringing on the end of her words.

With a peak over her bulky shoulder, Ellen smirked.

"I trust that you will have read up to chapter five by tomorrow, when I return."

Morgan frowned and sighed. "I will," she agreed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Slowly the door shut in front of her, leaving a rather frustrated Elric daughter standing hopeless in the entry hall.

What was the deal here, anyway? She had already read dozens of mindless beginner's guides. She needed an alchemy teacher; not some kind of librarian to recommend her novels.

Though it reminded her much of the hopelessness she felt at home, making her remember how homesick she **wasn't.** Day after day was spent wasting away in her father's study, reading and building excitement, but never actually achieving.

At least now she was as close as she had ever been.

Perfectly timed, Lucas joined Morgan in the entry hall as the girl let out another long sigh.

"What a thrilling lesson," he joked, resting his elbow on her shoulder.

Morgan let her head hang low. "I am so sick of reading books, you have no idea."

Lucas shook his head, his brown eyes narrowing in idealment. "Why don't you just speed read?" He suggested.

Morgan looked up and chuffed. "Trying to get me to slack off, huh?"

"Exactly." Lucas smiled.

Morgan rolled her eyes and lead herself to the parlor, where she took a seat in a plush loveseat. She began reading aloud as Lucas sat on an adjacent sofa.

"_Equivalent Exchange- the law of all laws..._"

Hadn't she already read a book exactly like this, somewhere, sometime long ago..? Or maybe they just all started off the same.

"_The law that governs the ways of nature, the ways of life, and the ways of death."_

"Okay," she spat out. "That is enough for today."

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><p>Surprisingly, by noon, the usual rainshowers in Central had ceased. The estate courtyard, plucked and proper, was littered with mirroring puddles that copied the sky seamlessly. Dew rested on petals and leaves alike, soaking up the sun that was happy to finally be seen after the triumph of grey weather.<p>

It made Morgan's mood lift significantly to be out in the warmth, and having "finished" her assignment for the day, found it all the more reason to enjoy it.

As she spun around puddles, humming carelessly, Lucas sat afar with a sketchbook perched on his lap.

"Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium," Morgan sang in a upbeat tune, to Lucas's apparent amusement. The boy sported a gentle smile as he busily worked with a pencil in hand.

"Learn that song in your new book, did you?" Lucas asked, not breaking his concentration from the paper.

"Made it up," She laughed, stopping in front of him. "Whatcha drawing?"

Lucas looked up at the girl and patted the seat on the bench next to him. His long fingers were covered in grey marks of charcoal and pencil graphite. These markings were the waste product of an artist, Morgan thought.

She took the seat indicated, scooting in close to see the sketch. On the page was a lined figure, of long hair and big eyes that appeared to be dancing around the same puddles in the same garden scene that was standing in front of them. Morgan gasped smally, realizing her resemblance to the girl in the picture.

"It's..." She stuttered.

"Not finished." Lucas interrupted, with a small laugh. "It's kind of like, a congratulations present of sorts."

"What for?" Morgan asked in awe.

"For a hard day's work, I suppose. For following your dreams. Whatever." He smiled.

Morgan smiled toothily, looking Lucas straight in the warm brown eyes- that kind of flattered smile that comes with a little shrug of the shoulders and cheeks that bunch up to block the corners of your vision.

Yes- now, she was as close as she had ever been.


End file.
